


Athena's Song

by aqd



Series: Laviyuu Week 2018 [2]
Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Forests, Insomnia, LaviYuu, Laviyuu Week 2018, M/M, One Shot, Owls, Witchcraft, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-04-13 15:34:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14115441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aqd/pseuds/aqd
Summary: The moon is not more than a sliver, but the pale light is enough to illuminate the figure on the old fence surrounding the garden.It’s an owl, silent and beautiful. It sways its head slowly from one side to the other, watching him closely with a single amber eye, before it spreads its wings and flies off into the night, leaving nothing behind, except silence and a single feather.





	Athena's Song

**Author's Note:**

> Second day of the Laviyuu Week: Fog | Vague, Out Of Reach, Mystery, Eerie, Secrets  
> http://laviyuu-week.tumblr.com/
> 
> trigger warnings: insomnia

Kanda once read that the longest period of time without sleep has been around eleven days. Eleven days, that’s not hard to believe for Kanda, other than the fact that it was a volunteer. The idea to not sleep by your own choice, that’s what he doesn’t understand. His personal record – not voluntary, please note – is about six days.  
  
He can’t remember a time he could just go to bed and sleep. It has always been a struggle, on some days more and on other less. Until when he was about eighteen. After that the days with less struggles stopped. He doesn’t know why, maybe stress, maybe a hormonal change, maybe no reason at all. Kanda hates going to bed, because he tried everything, medication, sleep hygiene and more. Nothing helps and if it does it’s only short-lived.  
  
Four years without one night with proper sleep leave marks. Kanda is irritable, exhausted, can’t concentrate longer than half an hour max and keeps losing weight. It’s the idea of his desperate father. Maybe it’s the city, maybe the light pollution, maybe the noise.  
  
Kanda knows it’s none of that. It’s him. It always has been him. He accepts his father’s idea, but only to make the old man feel better. Kanda’s father has always been a tad too much for him, too caring, too whiny, but he also has stayed so many nights awake to keep his company, when Kanda couldn’t bear the silence of the night. All alone awake and so terribly tired he wanted to scream. Leaving the city will probably make it even worse, because in the tiny village his brother resides, he’s going to be really all alone. Only him and his oldest companion insomnia. But he gives it a try, mainly for his father.  
  
It’s a long journey, first metro, then train, later bus and finally a taxi ride. The landscape changes from urban to wide fields and to thick forest. Kanda’s moody and tired when he finally reaches his brother’s house, but he’s always moody and tired and so he tries to hide it, but Marie knows. He always does.  
  
“Oh, I missed you.” Kanda has never been a fan of hugs, but it has really been a long time and so he leans against Marie’s shoulder and doesn’t even complain about the hand on his back. “Your hair got so long,” Marie says and cups his cheeks. “You lost weight.” Kanda doesn’t answer, instead he does a step back and examines his brother’s house.  
  
“It’s smaller than I expected,” he says and Marie puts a hand on his back.  
  
“Yes, but it’s comfy.” He leads him inside and he’s right. It’s a cute little house with lots of pillows, a fireplace and a meowing white cat. “That’s Maia,” Marie explains and disappears into the small kitchen to prepare tea. “You can pet her. She’s very friendly.”  
  
“I didn’t know you had a cat.” Kanda walks towards her, before he pauses. A little pink nose and fluffy ears, but no eyes. “She’s blind?” he asks and Marie starts to laugh.  
  
“A friend of mine found her and her siblings in the forest and how could I say no to her?” The kettle starts to whistle and Kanda hears the clinking of cups. “We sometimes bump into each other, but aside from that we’re a great team.”  
  
He walks back into the living room and Kanda quickly takes his bag aside, because he thoughtlessly put it on the ground. “Where can I put my back? I want neither the cat nor you to stumble over it.”  
  
Marie starts to laugh and hands him a cup. “Upstairs, right door. The room is small, but you have a window and a comfy bed. Will that be okay?”  
  
Kanda places the cup on the sill of the fireplace. “Yeah, I’m sure.” He throws his bag over his shoulder and goes upstairs. The room is really small, only a bed and a dresser, but there’s fresh linen, an orchid on the window sill and the sight out of the window is nice. Lots of green.  
  
Kanda opens the window and the first thing he notices is the silence. The road is barely used and all he hears is the rushing of the wind and the singing of the birds. The air is cleaner, too.  
  
Kanda’s still sceptical, but at least it won’t do any harm. He goes back downstairs and they spend the rest of the afternoon with drinking tea and talking. Or Marie talks and Kanda listens. Marie works from home and he’s a relaxed host. Kanda can stay as long as he wants to and Marie only asks him for one thing.  
  
“Please don’t go into the forest after dark,” he says and Kanda raises his brows. He spent the last hour staring out of the window and to the forest surrounding the tiny village.  
  
“Why?”  
  
“Because it’s easy to get lost,” Marie explains. "We have a lot of fog down here and the forest is thick. You wouldn’t be the first one to get lost.” He ruffles Maia’s fur. She lies on his lap, kneads his leg and purrs loudly. Kanda examines him for a moment, before he answers.  
  
“Okay.” He has a look at his phone. The GPS signal is quite good. There is probably no way to get really lost, at least with a phone in your pocket. Marie falls silent and keeps petting his cat, while Kanda goes back to looking at the forest.

 

Of course he doesn’t sleep in this night, even though he’s bone-weary. It’s probably the new surroundings and Maia, who keeps scratching at the door until he finally opens it. She darts past him and jumps on the window sill, listening to the sound of the night and breathing in the fresh air. Kanda pets her, before he lies back down and tries at least to rest, even if he can’t sleep.  
  
It’s the same as always. He keeps turning, because he doesn’t find the right sleep position. It’s either one of his legs getting numb, his neck hurting, his arm itching, his foot twitching. He’s thirsty and his throat feels dry. Then he has to use the toilet. Rinse and repeat. Maia is a silent companion and doesn’t move much. She lies on his shirt on the window sill, but she turns from time to time and that’s already enough to annoy him. He doesn’t have a clock near his bed, but the sky gets lighter and the singing of the birds louder. His head is buzzing, a thousand thoughts, not many of them as cloudless as the sky.  
  
He gives up at five o’clock and Maia stretches, before she jumps down the sill. He follows her into the kitchen, impressed how flawless she navigates through the legs of table and chairs, and feeds her, before preparing tea and some toast. Everything is annoying, like always after a night without any sleep. His shirt scratches, Maia keeps meowing, one of the birds sings rather shrilly and the toast is dry.  
  
He stays moody for the rest of the day, especially since Marie wants to introduce him to his neighbours. They’re all friendly and it’s nobody’s fault, but Kanda just wants to be alone. He listens to their happy chatting and can barely keep his eyes open. The only one who’s not overhappy is the old man living at the other end of the village. They call him Bookman, because of the huge library in his house. He only shakes Kanda’s hand and examines him from head to toe. He and Marie exchange a few words and then he closes the door. Marie has to work and Kanda is finally alone and goes for a walk into the thick forest.  
  
He’s tired and he has a persistent headache, like always after a night without any sleep. The villagers were friendly, but after the third of them asking what he’s doing for a living, he just wanted to turn around and flee back into the tiny room he shares with Maia, who doesn’t grow tired of the windows sill.  
  
Kanda is now unemployed since nearly two years, after dropping out of university. He had a few jobs in between, but never more than a few weeks, because he can’t properly concentrate, is too often sick and has to gnash his teeth to keep himself from exploding whenever something doesn’t go right. Kanda walks between trees and over moss and doesn’t try to think about the future, because right now there isn’t anything, aside from the dark abyss insomnia, slowly driving him insane and stealing everyday a little more of his enjoyment of life.  
  
The forest is beautiful and full of life. He watches small birds jumping through branchwood and even sees a squirrel flying by. The forest smells like rain and earth and Kanda is, and that’s the best, completely alone. It’s not a long walk, since he’s exhausted, and when he goes home, Maia already waits in front of the door for him. She meows and he pets her head, before he opens the door and follows her inside.  
  
“Hello.” Marie sits at his desk and smiles at him. “The forest is amazing, isn’t it?”  
  
“Yeah.” Kanda slips out of his shoes and flops down on the couch. “Maia is allowed to go outside?”  
  
“She gets by really good and also she knows the forest better than me,” Marie answers and clicks his tongue. Maia runs towards him and meows when he picks her up. “How are you?”  
  
“Good,” Kanda answers without skipping a beat and leans back.

 

The next two weeks fly by. He gets used a little to his new room and can at least sleep a few hours per night. It’s still not enough, but he’s less easy to irritate and has enough energy to go into the forest daily.  
  
At night when he can’t sleep, he sits next to Maia on the window sill and watches the night sky. There’s no light pollution and so many stars like he has never seen before in his life. Sometimes he feels like he’s lost somewhere in a sea of stars, far away from everybody, aside from the trusty cat purring on his lap.  
  
And at full moon he watches the forest lying peaceful under the sky. Today is an especially tough night. A headache keeps him awake and he can’t sleep more than a few hours even though he feels bone weary.  
  
The moon sits between clouds and sends down pale light. Maia sleeps tonight in Marie’s bed, snuggled up to his back. Kanda peeked into his room when he got some water. And so he’s alone.  
  
He’s on edge and it takes him a while to understand why. It’s not only the headache. It’s silence.  
  
He frowns and opens the window a little wider, but there’s nothing. No rustling, no singing nightingales. Silence.  
  
He examines the dark treetops for another moment and starts closing the window, until he suddenly catches movement out the corner of his eye. A shadow moves out of the forests and up the sky, slowly circling in front of the full moon. And then another, another, another. In mere minutes the sky is full of birds, dancing in the moonlight, perfectly silent. Kanda has never seen something like this.  
  
It goes on for a few minutes, until all of them rush down without any warning and vanish as quickly between the trees as they emerged in the first place. It’s silent for another moment, until the first crickets start to sing, quickly joined by nightingales.  
  
Kanda closes the window and the curtains and disappears under his blanket, not knowing what he just witnessed.

 

It doesn’t happen every night, but every so often whenever the sky is clear and stars and moon are visible. It’s every time only a matter of minutes. The birds start to dance in perfect silence and disappear into the forest.  
  
Kanda doesn’t talk with Marie about it, because his brother is dead asleep every night and probably never noticed a thing. Instead he keeps watching until he finally has enough in a particular tough night. He sneaks through the corridor and down the stairs, not even waking up Maia, who sleeps on the topmost step, before slipping into his shoes, grabbing the keys and leaving the small house.  
  
He doesn’t leave the road, because it’s dark and the last thing he wants is to get lost in the pitch-black forest. Instead he watches the movement of hundreds of birds in the sky, silently dancing and then disappearing one after the other in the dense treetops.  
  
He sighs and turns around to go back inside, only to stop immediately. The moon is not more than a sliver, but the pale light is enough to illuminate the figure on the old fence surrounding Marie’s garden.  
  
It’s an owl, silent and beautiful. It sways its head slowly from one side to the other, watching Kanda closely with a single amber eye, before it spreads its wings and flies off into the night, leaving nothing behind, except silence and a single feather.

 

He gives the feather to Maia, who plays the whole day with it. She swats it around and later nibbles on it. It’s an adorable sight and keeps exhaustion at least a little bit away.  
  
Kanda searches online, but he doesn’t find any explanation for such a huge parliament of owls dancing through the night sky. He thinks about asking the old man, who visits his brother every Sunday for a cup of tea, but only mentioning the owl he saw a few nights ago up close is enough to wipe the smile off Bookman’s face.  
  
“Stay away from them,” he answers sternly and gets up to take the feather away from Maia, who promptly starts to meow. “They have all kinds of illnesses and parasites. The population keeps growing and growing and will soon collapse.” He throws the feather away, washes his hands and sits back down. “And don’t go too deep into the forest. It’s easy to get lost,” he adds. He searches in the pockets of his jacket until he finds a pen he throws down for Maia, who starts shoving it around and hunting after it. Then he changes the topic and starts to talk about an old manuscript he found online, while Kanda watches the cat playing.

 

Back in his school days Kanda was notorious for being a troublemaker. He skipped school, never did his homework and was more than once caught smoking behind the school building. It was just a phase and soon his grades got a lot better. But he never stopped being at least a little defiant.  
  
So it’s not a surprise that he leaves the house in the dark only a few nights later. He has his phone and a flashlight in his hands. It’s a clear and nice night, stars scattered all over the sky. It’s perfectly silent, like always before the parliament starts its dance. The full moon is bright enough that he doesn’t even need the flashlight. He walks between trees and the silence is eerie, only disturbed by the sound of his steps. Leaves scrunch and from time to time twigs snap under the sole of his shoes. The treetops get denser and finally he has to use the flashlight to properly see where he’s going.  
  
The forest looks spooky in the cold light and Kanda keeps walking until he reaches a small clearing he found some days ago. The ground is full of moss and soft grass and he sits down cross-legged, before he leans back and switches the light off.  
  
Kanda was never afraid of the dark, but the dead silence keeps him on edge. It doesn’t keep him from waiting, though he doesn’t know why he’s so fascinated by some birds flying around in the moonlight. It doesn’t take long and finally the first shadows dart over the night sky. It’s even more beautiful up close. He can tell apart different kinds of owls, some a lot bigger than others. They bath in the moonlight, dancing and chasing each other, until suddenly a soft whistle chases through the forest. Kanda sits up and listens carefully.  
  
Leaves scrunching under the soles of shoes. He freezes and nearly misses the owls diving back into the dense treetops.  
  
“Hello?” he calls out, because it’s ridiculous. It’s probably another insomniac, getting some fresh air or walking their dog. The steps stop abruptly and the silence is deafening. The crickets stay silent and so do the nightingales and frogs. No sound aside from Kanda’s own heartbeat.  
  
He doesn’t notice the fog immediately and when he does, it’s already too late. It crawls over moss and leaves, sloshes between the trees and hides the world. Kanda gets up and swears, because all of a sudden he can’t even see the closest trees. He switches his flashlight back on, but that doesn’t do a thing. He’s surrounded by walls of fog and finally gets his phone out. Marie’s house is in the east of the forest and if he navigates with GPS he should be able to go back home.  
  
“What the fuck?” he whispers and his heart sinks. No signal. He definitely had signal only a few minutes ago, because he kept checking his phone to know in which direction he has to go to get back home. But now nothing.  
  
Kanda lowers his hand and stares into the milky darkness. “Fuck,” he whispers. He only has been this deep in the forest a few times before and he wouldn’t be the first person to get lost. Years ago a hiker walked into the forest and was never to be seen again. Or at least for a few years, until a group of hikers stumbled over a pile of bones.  
  
Kanda inhales slowly and feels panic arising, but that’s the last thing he needs now. He probably should-  
  
A hoot of an owl.  
  
For a moment Kanda thinks the stars fell off the sky. Glowing eyes, everywhere around him.  
  
He freezes and another hoot resonates. He slowly raises his flashlight and does a quick step back. The owl sits on a branch right next to him. It stares at him, eyes wide and yellow, before it lightly tilts its head and hoots once more.  
  
A moment later another owl hoots, a few metres farer away and Kanda cautiously examines his surroundings. Owls, dozens of them. They sit in the trees around him, different shades of grey and brown, different sizes, different species. They don’t move aside from softly rocking or tilting their heads. They watch him as cautiously as he looks at them, probably waiting what he’s going to do.  
  
The owl hoots again and Kanda does a few careful steps. The owls stay where they are and his next steps are more confident.  
  
The owl keeps calling out. It’s smaller than the others and tilts its little head, before it falls silent. Then another one hoots, a few more metres behind this one. It’s grey and taller and spreads its wings when Kanda stops under the tree it’s sitting on. And then the next one calls out.  
  
Kanda follows the singing of the owls, always only one of them calling and the others curiously watching him. The fog is still thick and he has no idea in which direction he’s walking, but it’s not like he has a lot of different options. His phone still has no signal, the stars are hidden by fog and this part of the forest looks completely unfamiliar. And so he follows the owls, wondering where they’re going to lead him.  
  
After an endless hour the trees get less dense until there’s no more moss and leaves under his shoes, only unkempt lawn. The fog is less thick than before and finally he sees the first street lights. Kanda starts to run, relieved like never before in his life.  
  
The last owl sits on the fence around Marie’s garden. It’s the same like a few nights ago. It slowly rocks its head and hoots a last time, before it flies off.

 

Kanda doesn’t talk to anybody about it. Marie didn’t notice a thing and Kanda wants it to stay that way.  
  
The owls now appear every night, though rarely more than a handful. They sit on the old tree in the garden, on the fence, sometimes even right in front of Kanda’s window and hoot from time to time into the darkness, glowing yellow and amber eyes watching him carefully. They only start to sing after his brother is fast asleep and Kanda has no idea what he should think about it.

 

Soon weird things start to happen. One morning all flowers are gone from Marie’s garden, the stems still sticking empty into the air. They were cut carefully, which doesn’t make any sense, since Kanda didn’t sleep the whole night and sat on the window sill together with Maia to watch the owls.  
  
Kanda learns later that it’s give and take, because in the same night claws clack against his window and he finds a pendant made of different sorts of feathers, all carefully arranged and held together by dark yarn. He examines it carefully and sits down on the edge of his bed, when a wave of tiredness sloshes all of a sudden over him and he can barely lie down, before Hypnos takes him into his arms and spreads out comfortable darkness all around him.  
  
For the first time in years he’s not the first one to be up in the morning. Marie trips over his long legs, which still hang out of the bed, and apologize profusely. Kanda wants to snap at him, because sleep is precious, but then he notice how well-rested he feels.

 

From now on Kanda goes out on a regular basis to watch the owls, which get more and more trusting. He starts to throw out bird seeds every evening and dinner is served. The owls wait on the roof and in the trees until a careless mouse darts over the lawn and always only one of them chases down and disappears into the darkness.  
  
He gets lost in the forest a few more times, because fog always surprises him. Milky waves slosh over him without proper warning, but he’s not afraid, since his trusty little friends always guide him back home.

 

He keeps hearing steps and whistles, but the person vanishes every time into thin air and Kanda doesn’t even know why they fascinate him so much. It’s probably just another tired soul going for a walk, but his heartbeat quickens nonetheless every time.

 

Kanda sleeps as good as never before in his life, not even before insomnia got hold of him. The pendant is hidden under his wide shirt and the feathers tickle the skin right above his heart.

 

Sometimes there’s a circle made of feathers in different sizes and colours around the house. The flowers grow back quickly and disappear as fast. Kanda only sleeps a few hours every night, but it’s enough. He feels as healthy as never before and so he spends his nights sitting on the window sill, petting Maia and listening to the hoots and sounds of steps.  
  
The first time he sees the person is in a clear night. They emerge from the darkness, hidden under a wide cloak, jump light-footedly over the fence and Kanda watches them taking all the newly grown flowers and leaves, while the owls stop hooting and start to fly in slow circles around the house, dozens of them. Their eyes glint in the moonlight and it’s only a minute, maybe two. Then the person seems to be satisfied and disappears into the forest, followed by their loyal companions.

 

Kanda isn’t the only one, who notices the dance of the parliament, but other than him the villagers are not enchanted. They’re scared and there’s even a meeting to glean ideas how to get rid of them. Kanda sits perfectly silent between his brother and the old man, who keeps staring at him. Kanda hasn’t only always been a defiant, but also a skilled liar and so he meets the old man’s eyes without problem.

 

The person seems to know that they’re watched. They still come every so often into the garden to take pieces of plants and sometimes they stop and look up to him through the darkness. They never appear when he’s outside or if they do he doesn’t notice.

 

Weeks fly by and the day he has to go back home comes closer and closer. His father is relieved he got so much better and so is Kanda, though the idea of traveling back to his beloved city isn’t very appealing. He got used to the silence of starry nights and long walks through fog, only accompanied by glowing eyes and soft hoots.  
  
It’s another silent night deep in the forest, another full moon. Kanda spent the last hour counting stars and owls and finally the whistling appears. He stops and listens, while the owls raise themselves into the air, feathers illuminated by moonlight.  
  
He hears steps and his fingers start to play with the pendant. And finally Kanda is fed up and clears his throat.  
  
“I know you’re there,” he says into the darkness and his voice cuts through the silence. The steps stop and Kanda gets up. He pauses for a moment, before he inhales. “Thank you for the pendant.”  
  
It’s silent for another long moment and Kanda already thinks they disappeared back into the darkness, but then he hears once more steps. Coming closer.  
  
Fog appears out of nowhere, wafting over the soft ground and pooling around Kanda’s legs. And then a person steps into the pale moonlight.  
  
It’s a man, enshrouded by a raging milky sea, churning around both of them. Red hair and an eyepatch.  
  
A shadow breaks away from the dark treetops and a small owl lands on his shoulder. He smiles and touches brown plumage. The owl hoots softly and turns its little head to look at Kanda. So does the man.  
  
“You’re welcome,” he says and a pleasant shiver wanders over Kanda’s body.

 

His name is Lavi. Born and raised in a city just like Kanda, living all alone in the deep woods with feathered companions in a small cabin surrounded by pines and wildflowers.  
  
Four owlets sit in a wicker basket on the bed, screaming and clacking their beaks, and Kanda watches Lavi feeding them one by one, until all of them are silent and fall asleep nestled against each other.  
  
“Why are the villagers afraid of you?” Kanda asks. He sits cross-legged on the window sill, while Lavi washes his hands and cleans his tools.  
  
“Humans are always afraid of what they don’t understand,” he explains. “Except you.” He smiles at Kanda, who casts his eyes down.  
  
“Except me,” he echoes.

 

From now on he spends every single night out in the dark, either in Lavi’s cabin or together in the forest, walking through fog and listening to the singing of the parliament.  
  
He’s not a simple human. Kanda just knows it and to his own surprise he doesn’t mind. Maybe it’s the consequence of too many years without enough sleep, maybe it’s just the way of the world far out in the woods. He watches Lavi grinding dried petals and leaves nearly every night and carefully bagging the paste. Sometimes Lavi hands him one of the bags without saying anything and laughs, when Kanda can’t figure out the purpose.  
  
“It’s for your headache. Just a spoon before going to bed and it will be gone,” he explains and Kanda frowns.  
  
“I never told you about my headache,” he answers.  
  
“Yes, you never did.” Lavi smiles at him, green eye glinting in candle light. “Just one spoon. It’s a little bitter, so take it before brushing your teeth.”  
  
Then he goes back to taking apart the chrysanthemum flowers in his hands.

 

Sometimes Lavi touches him, fleeting and so soft Kanda barely feels it. Tips of cold fingers on his cheeks and under his chin, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear, brushing over his lashes and sometimes his lips.  
  
Sometimes Lavi takes a hair of him, sometimes two. The cauldron on the wooden floor of the old cabin is so small Lavi has to sit on the ground to stir comfortably. The windows are open like always and the owls sit on the window sills and watch him, while pale moths dance around the lantern on the nightstand. The mixture is perfectly clear until Lavi drops the hair and grinded herbs into the cauldron. It turns to a greyish colour, like moonlight in a bottle. Lavi’s hand touches Kanda’s when he hands him one of the bottles and he has to look away because Lavi’s smile is bright like a thousand stars.  
  
“A spoon every night?” he asks and Lavi starts to laugh and shakes his head.  
  
“Put it on your nightstand. It’ll catch nightmares,” he explains. “Don’t open the bottle or they’re going to escape.” An owl soundlessly glides through the window and lands on Lavi’s shoulder. “It turns darker with every nightmare and when it’s black I’ll give you a new one,” he says and smiles at Kanda, while gently ruffling the owl’s plumage.  
  
“Thank you,” Kanda answers and Lavi hears the frown in his voice. He gets up and sits down on the bed next to him.  
  
“What’s wrong?” he asks and the warm light of the lantern gives his skin a golden tone.  
  
“I have to leave soon,” Kanda says and looks at him, eyes jumping over freckles and light brown lashes. Something darts over Lavi’s face, maybe hurt, maybe sadness, maybe disappointment. It disappears as quickly as it emerged.  
  
“Oh.” Lavi casts his eye down, but only for a moment. “I guess then there’s no time to lose,” he says and his smile is too warm, too bright. He hooks a hand behind Kanda’s neck and then he kisses him.

 

Lavi’s lips taste like mint and starlight and he smells like the forest. He touches Kanda with the same care he takes apart flowers and binds up a broken wing. His hair is soft and sometimes Kanda finds a downy feather in the mess of red strands. Lavi takes it out of his hand and blows it away while laughing.  
  
He likes to whisper into Kanda’s ears, foreign words he doesn’t understand. Fog pools against the windows, the owls start to sing and the moths stretch their wings. Sometimes fireflies appear between the glowing eyes in the misty sea and Kanda watches them dancing while Lavi scatters kisses all over his face, neck and shoulders.  
  
Sometimes Lavi appears in his room in Marie’s little house, only announced by a soft hoot. Kanda blinks and he’s sitting on the edge of his bed out of nowhere, hair wild and cheeks so freckly. Maia is careful in the beginning, but then she loses her heart as quickly as Kanda and spends the nights lying on Lavi’s stomach and purring silently. Sometimes Kanda goes to bed alone and wakes up hours later, because there’s an arm around his waist and soft breath against his neck. Sometimes they go to bed together and when Kanda wakes up in the morning Lavi’s missing, the only thing left behind a single brown feather on the pillow.  
  
Lavi comes and goes like fog, perfectly silent and unnoticed. Marie only asks a single time if Kanda called somebody at night, because he heard his soft voice, but that’s it. Kanda only once sees him in the town, visiting the only pharmacy and buying bandages and disinfectant. The townsfolk stare at him, fear seeping out of their eyes, but Lavi doesn’t seem to mind. He pays, wishes the cashier a nice day without getting an answer and passes Kanda with a smile, before he leaves.  
  
“You shouldn’t be seen with me,” he says later that night, placing kisses on Kanda’s cheeks and his forehead. “They don’t understand and they will not try to.”  
  
Kanda wants to object, but Lavi’s silences him with a kiss and curls his fingers into his hair.

 

They don’t have enough time. The day Kanda has to leave comes and it’s time to say goodbye.  
  
It’s silent and breathy, soft lips on Kanda’s temples and his cheekbones. It’s dew on lashes, spread on cheeks by gentle fingers. It’s whispered words and heartfelt promises.  
  
Kanda stays until he has to leave and Lavi doesn’t accompany him, because it would only prolong the heartache. But he doesn’t walk alone through the dark forest. Owls dance through the air, sit on the branches and hoot softly at him, silent goodbyes.  
  
In the morning Kanda finds another pendant on his pillow, dried poppy petals and white feathers, smelling like forest and fog. He hugs Marie and pets Maia and they talk a few more minutes at the door, until the taxi is there and it’s time to go.

 

Insomnia is nothing more than an ugly memory, drenched with desperation and exhaustion. Kanda sleeps every night without waking up more than once and re-enrols. Studying is so much easier than before and he doesn’t even need all-nighters, which is good, because he has more than enough of spending nights all alone while listening to the world sleeping.  
  
He feels better, but his heart stays heavy. He misses fog and soft hoots, red hair and light brown lashes. The bottle on his nightstand turns slowly darker and the two pendants around Kanda’s neck radiate peacefulness and tender memories.  
  
It’s a mild evening and he’s sitting at his desk and learning for an exam and everything is the same as usual, peaceful but uneventful. Until he hears it.  
  
A soft hoot and only a moment later the sound of claws clacking against his window. Kanda turns around, a warm shiver darting across his whole body, and when he spots glowing eyes and a single dancing moth in front of his window, he can’t stop the smile.  
  
“Hello Yuu,” Lavi says softly, sitting cross-legged on his bed and beaming at him. Fog pools over the floor, churned up by Kanda’s step. “Did you miss me?”  
  
“Yes,” Kanda answers and kisses him.  
  
Listening to the concert of the parliament.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my favourite one shot for this week. Thanks for reading.  
> See you tomorrow for day 3!


End file.
